


Three Things Of Life: Friends

by tielan



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Choices, Community: help_haiti, Friendship, Gen, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot's return forces a change in Gwen and Arthur's relationship - and it's not at all what they expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Things Of Life: Friends

**Author's Note:**

> A very late for - Lancelot returns, Gwen realises she doesn't love him but Arthur is an idiot about the whole thing so poor Merlin. It's actually less about Merlin than it is about Gwen and Arthur. This doesn't exactly go where I wanted it to, but as I wrote it, the characters refused to go the way I'd originally planned.

_Three things of life that are most valuable -_

 _Love, self-confidence & friends._

 

He's sitting on an upturned half-barrel outside John Cooper's house when Gwen gets home, dressed in travel leathers, a rough cloak draped around his shoulders, his sword resting on his knees. A familiar face in an unexpected setting, in Camelot again, and waiting for her.

"Lancelot."

"Gwen." He stands but doesn't approach. "How are you?"

"I'm... What are you doing here?" The question bursts from her with unexpected force. She hasn't seen him since the night he helped rescue her from Hengist's castle, then walked away in the twilight out of some stupid sense of chivalry, leaving her alone.

"I...I was in the area and thought..." He glances up the street. "I realise you probably do not wish to see me..."

"No. I mean, yes. I mean..." Gwen feels turned all about, as though she's been blindfolded and spun around in a circle, and is now expected to walk in a straight line. She put him out of her mind since that day nearly a year ago when she woke up and found him gone with never so much as a farewell - a memory too painful for recollection. "Perhaps you should come in."

It isn't what she intended to say, but it's the proper thing to do. They can hardly hold this conversation out in the street, after all, and the night is falling fast.

"I... Would it be proper?"

She smiles then, touched by his consideration for her reputation. "Come in."

Inside the house, she closes the door behind him, lights a candle, and pokes the embers of the fire, rousing them from their day's slumber and feeding them some wood slivers to get the fire up. "You said you're in the area? What brings you to Camelot?"

Behind her, his hesitation is marked. "You do."

Gwen turns around, surprised and a little apprehensive, uncertain of what he wishes from her. Her insides churn, uncomfortable "Lancelot..."

"Please hear me out, Gwen." He pushes his hands through his hair before letting them drop to his sides. "I left you for reasons that seemed right to me at the time. Prince Arthur had defied his father to come to rescue you; I thought it for the best that I leave."

"And you gave no thought to how I would feel? To my feelings for you?" Gwen struggles for control of her voice; the words come out half-choked.

"Will you tell me now that you felt nothing for the prince?"

"No." Gwen isn't inclined to lie. "But it was nothing more than possibility then."

"And now?" His gaze meets hers squarely, and she does not drop her eyes. Things are different now - between them, between her and Arthur. "I don't blame you, Gwen. Not then, and not now."

"You wouldn't have a reason to blame me," she says with rather more asperity than she intended. "I'd promised nothing to Arthur; and you left me no chance to promise anything to you."

"I know." He looks abashed, his eyes casting about as though seeking something to do or say that can make this right. "Are you happy?"

"Yes." That answer is simple enough, at least. Her life is far from perfect, but there are consolations, even with Morgana gone. There is Merlin and the other servants, Gaius, even Arthur whom she considers a friend - as much as she can be friend to a Prince.

The silence stretches a little too long for comfort.

"I should leave..."

"You should stay." Even as she says the words, she knows them to be true. "Stay for dinner at least. And there's the storage space if you don't mind a pallet for the night."

Lancelot hesitates, but after a moment he nods. "I'll stay."

He helps cook the meal, no stranger to the preparations of food, even if he is a little slow. Gwen asks him what he's been doing, he tells her he's been working with the du Lac of Parlepont, down south, fighting bandits.

"They needed a messenger to request assistance of Uther and his knights - some of the bandits may have strayed into Camelot forest. And since I knew the town..." He shrugs as they lay the plates down at the table and waits for her to seat herself.

Gwen arches her brows at him. "I thought you said you came to Camelot to see me?"

"I did! That is..." He pauses and seems to see the smile that bubbles up from within her. "A man may do things for more than one reason, Gwen."

She grins. "I'll keep that in mind."

The meal is simple, but the company is good. Gwen speaks about what's happened since she last saw him - Morgana's disappearance, the dragon's escape, the growing concern about both the use of magic and Uther's attitude towards it. Lancelot seems a little worried about that.

"Merlin's still working for Prince Arthur?"

"Yes." Gwen laughs a little as she mops up the meat gravy with a hunk of bread she was given from the palace kitchens. "Arthur says nobody else would put up with Merlin's shoddy service. Merlin says nobody else would put up with Arthur's demands."

"It sounds like they are well-matched, then."

"That's what Gaius thinks." Gwen tucks her hands under her thighs on the bench, then startles as there's a knock on the door. "Yes?"

"Gwen?" The latch lifts and Merlin pokes his head in. "Are you decent-- Lancelot!"

His grin suddenly fades as someone behind him pushes the door wider open. The grey hood of his cloak falls back and the candlelight gleams across blond hair. "Lancelot?"

Gwen sees the shock flicker across Arthur's face before he smooths it, his lips falling into that slight downturn of hurt displeasure.

"Sire." He bows, and his expression is also a cool mask - uncertainty, now, unsure in his footing.

About to explain why Lancelot is here, Gwen catches the faint twitch of Arthur's brows in an aborted frown, and suddenly rebels. She will not make explanations, nor excuse herself. She does not belong to him, she is not at his beck and call. A friend has visited her while in Camelot and she is allowed to welcome him to dinner.

After everything else that has happened between them in the last year, if Arthur Pendragon is going to be an idiot, Gwen is not about to stop him.

So she folds her hands and says nothing, lifting her chin as though she has the Prince and a former Knight of Camelot as guests in her house every evening.

"So, Lancelot" Merlin says with real curiosity. "What brings you to Camelot?"

"A message for King Uther from the du Lac that I was too late to deliver."

"You're working for the du Lac?"

"Against the bandits on their northern borders - the reason I am here. Parlepont requests help from Camelot."

This time, Arthur's frown furrows his brow. "Bandits? And the guards didn't send you through?"

"The King was at his dinner and not to be disturbed."

Gwen watches the way Arthur's lips compress and knows that the next time news comes through from the borders, the messenger will be sent on through. In spite of her annoyance with him, it puts a lump in her throat to see him like this - to watch him becoming the man she now trusts to rule Camelot and take care of its people. "I'll have a word with the guards on the gate. On a matter of bandits, there shouldn't be any delay."

"It's not an urgent message, sire. Just a formal notification. It can wait until morning."

"Ah, right then." Arthur glances at Gwen but looks away when he finds her watching him. His pose doesn't change, but there's an air of stiffness about him as he looks at Lancelot. "Do you need somewhere to stay the night? We have barracks for messengers and visiting guards and soldiers."

"No, thank you sire. I am provided for."

It takes Gwen a moment to realise what Arthur is implying, and when she realises it, anger bobs to the surface like an apple in a bucket.

He is welcome to make a fool of himself; she will not allow him to make a whore out of her.

"Lancelot is staying at the tavern, sire. His Lord has provided for his keep."

Behind Arthur's shoulder, Merlin's expression explores the dubious plains of _'oh, Arthur's put his foot in it'_ which are next to the mountains of _'he's an arrogant prat and I don't know why I put up with him'_ and lead to the swamps of _'he's going to be a nightmare to live with after this, isn't he?_ '

"I...see." From the wince that twitches across his face, Gwen gathers he really does. But rather than apologise for the misunderstanding or even try to continue the conversation, Arthur tugs his cloak around his shoulders and nods briefly at Lancelot. "Well, I'm sure you're busy catching up with Gwen, and I have...things to do up in the castle, so Merlin and I will be going now."

Never mind that they arrived only moments before.

"Actually," Merlin pipes up, "I'm going to stay here. Catch up with Lancelot. If Gwen doesn't have a problem with it?"

Gwen doesn't.

Arthur's face grows thunderous, but he's no longer the arrogant prince he was even a year ago - even if his neck is extremely stiff. He simply takes his leave, and if Gwen knows his gaze lingers on her for a moment longer, unsure of whether or not to say something, but she ignores him. Right now she's angry enough that even if he apologised and _begged_ her on bended knee, she'd ignore him.

So maybe it's just as well his footsteps recede out into the crisp, cold night, leaving her to her house and the company of Merlin and Lancelot.

As the boys start their conversation and Gwen begins dumping dirty dishes in the sink, she reflects that Arthur Pendragon can rot in hell for all she cares right now.

\--

"You were an idiot last night."

There are times when Arthur wishes his manservant was a little more respectful. Unfortunately, Merlin has his precise measure and no longer hesitates to speak his mind. Usually, Arthur doesn't mind this.

However, this morning Arthur is not in the mood for Merlin's frankness.

He had the long walk up to the castle last night to think over what he'd said and how he'd been an idiot about Lancelot, and made a fool of himself in front of Guinevere.

He had the evening to stare at the new treatise between Mercia and the Continental Franks and think of the bandit skirmishes down in the south, where Lancelot was probably making a name for himself among the duLac.

And this morning, he has Merlin to bring his breakfast and lecture him.

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all." The plate thumps down in front of Arthur. "You know, Lancelot really did come to give the King the report."

He shoots Merlin a glare.

"I know."

"I mean, he came back to see Gwen, too, but that's no surprise. He cares about her." Merlin paused. "He's not going to stand in your way."

"There is no 'way'," Arthur snaps. "I'm hardly Guinevere's keeper. She's free if she wishes to be."

"And if she doesn't?" Merlin shrugs. "I'm just saying, if you really like her..."

It's so simple to Merlin. He's a village boy at heart, and when you like a girl in the village, you just kiss her. Or have her in a haystack or something. When you're the only son of a powerful king, due to inherit the kingdom, it's a lot more complicated. "This isn't a ballad, Merlin! There isn't going to be any happy ending where they ride off into the mountains!"

"Maybe up the rampart to the castle...?" Merlin subsides as Arthur glares at him. "Right. No riding off anywhere."

"Shut up and let me eat."

Merlin does - for all of twenty seconds.

"You should apologise."

He knows he should. But a part of him doesn't want to - just because Merlin browbeat him into it. Anyway, how the hell is he going to apologise to Gwen? Sure, he might see her on his way through the castle, but it's not as though he can just wander over and have a chat with her while she's about her duties, or he's doing something!

Arthur grimaces his way through his breakfast, answering Merlin's attempts to converse with grunts. If he's going to talk with Gwen, he'll do it in his own time, at his own pace, and not when his manservant thinks he should.

On his way down to his father's morning meeting, Arthur keeps an eye out for Gwen, though. Because if there is an opportunity to speak with her, he might as well take it.

It's not that he doesn't trust her. It's just that she has no reason to wait for Arthur to inherit the kingdom and marry her. His father's healthy and hale; it could be years before they can be together - and that's even assuming she'd marry him.

Arthur hasn't forgotten her statement after the fiasco with Lady Vivian: _I cannot be your queen._

He can't imagine anyone _other_ than Gwen as his queen anymore.

He's faced monsters and magicians, warriors and warlocks, but those were easy enough - he's been trained to fight since he was old enough to bear a weapon. Facing the prospect of Gwen marrying someone else...

Then Arthur turns a corner and comes face to face with Gwen.

"Guinevere..."

She's stopped, stepping back and to the side, as though she expects him to sweep by. Her mouth is set in a proud line, without even a hint of an upwards smile, and although her eyes flick up to his face once, she keeps them lowered when he hesitates. "Can we talk?"

For a moment, he thinks she's going to say she's busy and walk off. Then it's like something in her sags, even as her chin lifts and her shoulders go back and she walks to the nearby room without looking back.

Arthur doesn't completely close the door behind him. But he does move away from the door so Gwen won't feel like she's hemmed in and can't move past him. "I should apologise," he begins.

"Yes, you should."

Her response is sharp as a slap across the face, and for a moment, Arthur's furious at her presumption: it's his determination whether she should apologise or not!

The stiffness in her expression recalls him from his outraged pride. And Arthur's failure not to be an arse suddenly stings.

"I didn't have the right to assume..." He begins, then trails of, unsure of what he should say, how he should say it. "It was wrong of me. I'm sorry."

Gwen stares at him for a moment, as though waiting for him to say something more. More justification, ore prevarications, more excuses. Arthur keeps his teeth clenched closed. He's not as sensitive to nuances as Merlin, but right now he knows that if he says anything, he'll say too much.

But the silence grows as neither of them say anything, as she just studies him with a wary expression, as though she's trying to make up her mind about him.

Then, at last, she takes a deep breath. "My life would be a lot easier without you, Arthur."

"I know."

"You don't have the right to assume that I'm yours," she continues. "And you don't have the right to assume that, because I won't give in to you, I'd let just any man..."

"I didn't think that!"

"You thought I would let Lancelot stay with me!"

"You let me stay with you."

"That was different. You didn't see me as..." She trails off.

Arthur swallows down the lump in his throat. He doesn't know what she wants; he only knows that he has to let her choose it without his interference. Because he could force her into a relationship, maybe into marriage if he tried hard enough. He could make her life hell in order to have his way with her.

But what kind of victory would that be?

"What do you want?"

Gwen tilts her head, an expression and pose of annoyance. "When is it ever about what I want? I'm a servant, Arthur! I serve the whims of you and your father, and your father's nobles."

He doesn't have anything to counter that, because it's true. Her choices _aren't_ evenly balanced.

Refuse the prince who'll someday be the king of this realm? Accept a life that would shame her honest nature? Or be pushed towards a relationship that she might not want, simply because he's the prince?

Arthur doesn't want Gwen to choose Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot; he wants Gwen to choose Arthur - the man who just happens to come with a family name, a duty, and the ruling of a kingdom.

It's not that simple.

 _I cannot be your queen._

"Then make it about what you want," he says and swallows hard. "I'll stand by your decision."

If she wants him to, he'll bow out of her life with as much grace as he can manage. If she wants him to step back, he'll step back. And if it feels foolish and stupid to give her the choice, he'll still let her choose. Because it would mean nothing if she wasn't allowed to make the decision herself, and she would come to resent him.

Gwen sighs. "I want to be trusted that what I do is right. And I... I want..." She trails off and looks away, grimacing.

"You want?"

"I want us to be friends. Just friends." She looks back, her face slightly downturned, her gaze slanting upwards as though in defiance. "What we want cannot be between us, my Lord. You cannot make me your wife, and I will not be your lover."

Which means setting boundaries between them. Being careful when he sees her, being cautious when she passes him. Not being caught alone together - like now.

"All right," he says. "Friends. Through Merlin."

"If he allows it."

"Of course." Then, because he has to know, he asks, "Do you... Do you want Lancelot?"

"No," Gwen says after a few heartbeats space. "Only as a friend." Then she sighs. "And this morning, sire? I want to get on with my duties."

She heads for the door, hesitating a moment by it, before she steps out into the corridor and her footsteps are swallowed up by distance.

Arthur lets her go, without trying to intercept her, without trying to kiss her, or trying to persuade her to stay. He lets her go because she wants to be let go - because she wants more, just as he does, but she's more sensible about what can and can't be.

He was an idiot last night, thinking he had a right to be angry at Gwen.

He won't be an idiot this morning. Not about this.

Friends. It's a bittersweet acknowledgement - enough for him to want more, not enough to satisfy him.

But it's not all about him, is it?


End file.
